Wind of Change
by Bikami
Summary: Songfic written to the Scorpions' song, Wind of Change. How did Russia, Germany and Prussia  East Germany  feel after the fall of the Wall? Rated T to be sure, and because there is a tiny bit of germancest in it.


I don't own Hetalia. If I did, Nekotalia wouldn't even exist, and Hetalia wpuld be a dead serious series.

Song belongs to the Scorpions, go check it out, it's really fantastic.

I follow the Moskva

Down to Gorky Park

Listening to the wind of change

An August summer night

Soldiers passing by

Listening to the wind of change

The sound of his feet against the paving stones makes a hollow, lonely sound as the Russian makes his way through the silent city. He is walking away from the commotions in the centre of the city, not able to bear any more hate right now, and he has left the loud noises of the demonstrations behind, to be left alone in the silence.

Even the Moskva River seems more silent than normal, as if it, too, is mourning their loss. The loss of those other countries that he only kept close because he didn't want to be left alone.

He has always hated being alone.

It is as if the wind is mocking him as he follows the river to the amusement park. He has known for a long time that this would happen, that it would have to change, but he has never accepted it, the fear of it only making him keep his underlings closer, not giving the citizens much opportunity to even think about changing this.

He has known for a long time, that if you keep a dog too close to you, not ever letting it have some freedom, it will either bow to you and become your truly close companion, or it will bite you and run away.

And now it is too late, the dog has left its leash.

The summer night is cool, and the moon covers the empty merry-go-rounds and rollercoasters in a white, ghostly sheen that makes it seem like surrealistic, almost like he is not awake, but dreaming instead.

Ivan turns around to see a soldier off duty, still wearing his uniform, but wearing it loose and with the jacket open. Not long ago, the soldier would have saluted Ivan as he passed him, knowing very well that this is a man with some big influence, but now he looks at Ivan as if he is scum, then spits on the ground just below the feet of the man before walking on.

As the footsteps disappear in the night, Russia is once again alone, hearing only the sound of his own breath and the soft howl of the wind.

The world is closing in

Did you ever think

That we could be so close, like brothers

The future's in the air

I can feel it everywhere

Blowing with the wind of change

The world has just turned smaller. A wall which has been parting Europe has fallen, and what before had been a great distance can now be closed with just a few steps. As if in a trance he walks toward the Wall, unable to understand that it has actually fallen before he has seen it with his own eyes.

He walks at a rapid pace, taking long strides towards his goal. He doesn't see anything, because what is there to see here except for the top of the Brandenburg gate towering further on? Ad he gets nearer to the wall, he can hear the sound of people yelling, laughing.

He can feel his blood boil in that special way that tells him that his people is happy. He can feel the heartbeat of all of the hundreds, thousands of people who have met here, in the middle of Berlin, all of them to tear down that horrible wall.

He can feel the common happiness running through his veins, and he cannot help but to join it, even if just a little bit.

He is still not happy. He has still not been truly reunited with the missing half of him. He cannot just walk anymore, so he begins running, the long strides taking him to the Wall swiftly.

Finally there, he stops suddenly, surrounded by laughing, dancing, yelling people, suddenly not sure what to do. How is he supposed to be able to find his long lost brother in this confusion?

In slow paces he moves towards one of the holes in the wall, desperately searching the crowd with his eyes, looking for a white head, some bright red eyes.

He feels a hand on his cheek and looks down, surprised, to see the exact red orbs he was just looking for.

"Missed me, little West?" The voice is hoarse and he seems tired, but it is his brother nonetheless. Not even taking his time to really look at the smaller person in front of him, the blonde man draws his brother into a bone-crushing hug.

"I was beginning to think I would never see you again, Bruder." The younger but bigger man says, answered by a snort and a "You can't get rid of me that easily" from his brother.

A few seconds pass before the oldest adds: "Though I did think for some time that you would."

And then two pairs of lips meet in a soft greeting, and each of them can feel their own and the other's pain in the salty tears, and the want to forget just that.

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow dream away

In the wind of change

It is a few days after the fall of the wall, and Gilbert is casually roaming through the now undivided city.

The moon is shining down on the pavement, and he can feel eyes following him. He has made a game with himself: He likes jumping from one side to the other on the place where the wall once held him apart from his bruder. He can't help but laugh triumphantly as he stands with one leg on either side of the wall, feeling the happiness from the freedom, from his people soar through him.

Behind him, some metres away, Ludwig cannot help but smile at his older brother's excitement, and he walks forward, pulling his arms around the other, faking him stiffen momentarily under the touch, and Ludwig cannot help but wonder what the other one has experienced while they were parted.

The Gilbert loosens up and turns his head to show Ludwig a smile. It is a smile the blonde can clearly see is forced, even though it is genuine.

Walking down the street

Distant memories

Are buried in the past forever

I follow the Moskva

Down to Gorky Park

Listening to the wind of change

His spies tell him about the reunited brothers, and his anger swells. HE has the rights to have East Germany as his own! It is he who watched over him all those years! No _western _country has the right to take anything from him!

… The problem is, everyone is against him, so, even though he knows he is right, Russia needs to bow his head and accept that he has lost Berlin and Gilbert. Instead, he must tend to his other countries, to try and catch them before they also leave him. But he is sad, for he can feel his land falling apart, the red flag is slowly fading, and the blue is taking over.

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams

With you and me

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow dream away

in the wind of change

The wind of change

Blows straight into the face of time

Like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell

For peace of mind

Let your balalaika sing

What my guitar wants to say

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams

With you and me

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow dream away

in the wind of change

Now, now. This is something I came up with when I was singing this song one day at school. My whole school was singing it, and somehow it inspired me to write this, when I later checked out some things about the song.

The Moskva is a river in Moscow, named after the city. Gorky Park is an amusement park in the city.

Should I continue with it, and write the last verse and chorus? And what to write? D:


End file.
